Love's Keen Sting
by imprecisesubject
Summary: It's Lizzy's sixth year at Hogwarts and after years of bickering, William-The-Snob Darcy has decided to be relatively nice to her. But she's not having any of it. Lydia, Jane, Emma Woodhouse, Catherine Morland, Fanny Price, the Dashwood sisters and Professor Anne Elliot all join in for what promises to be an eventful year. Austen-verse/Hogwarts (post-war) Crossover!
1. Many a Stroll and Many a Sigh

_Welcome to a new Hogwarts/Austen story! I'm incredibly excited about it. The two stories primarily focussed on are that of Persuasion and Pride and Prejudice - but I promise you'll see bits and pieces of others around the place - they all have their part to play! Please review and let me know how I can make these chapters better! I'm still learning! :)_

Anne pushed back the curtains of the classroom she knew so well and turned to see it all in its glory. She couldn't believe it was all hers. No, she reminded herself, it was only hers until her contract ran out. McGonagall was so good for even considering to take Anne on. Luckily, Professor Taylor – or Weston, as we now must remember to call her – had just gone and got herself married and pregnant (not necessarily in that order) and had decided to take a few years off to look after her new twins. Anne stood, lost for a moment in the thought of the new little Weston family living not so far from her old family home. She felt a little tug on her heart as she thought of the place where she had grown up. She had disapparated from the garden just this morning but it felt like years ago.

The last year had been spent taking all the odd jobs she could, just to try to help her father to keep the house but his Firewhiskey habits, as well as his Knockturn Alley jaunts, had cost them more than Anne could ever repair. A ministry worker had rapped on their door early last week to tell them that they had to leave. Her father and sister were fine, Elizabeth would go back to travelling under the tutelage of Charlie Weasley, capturing and caring for dragons – although most of her efforts seemed to be going towards trying to get the Weasley boy's attention. Her father had connections and would be able to work with the ministry, staying at the Leaky Cauldron when he didn't have accommodation on the job. They would both be right as rain, Anne told herself yet again, although not living to their usual standards perhaps.

It was only Anne who had had nowhere to go permanently. She had written a letter to McGonagall a day after they had received the news – applying for the position of Muggle Studies Professor, as she had seen in the Daily Prophet. Her owl, Seren, had come barrelling back through the window only a few hours later with the old Professor's approval and a contract to sign.

As though summoned by her thoughts, the faithful brown owl tapped on the window of her new classroom. Anne pulled herself out of her reverie and slid open the window, carefully plucking the letter from Seren's leg. She conjured a bowl of water and the owl drank and hooted happily while she read.

 _"Anne,_

 _I'm so glad to hear that you have somewhere to stay and work, all sorted out with just one owl! I would have been all too happy to have you stay at my house of course, but you may have been sick of Mrs Goddard looking over your shoulder all the time. I know I would have been. She was such a great carer for us orphans when we were young, but so many of us have stayed on to help her with the new ones after the war, and she drives us insane when the older ones are off at Hogwarts. We've all been looking for temporary jobs, just to give us an excuse to get out of the grounds!_

 _Some of us have had some luck – I am, of course, trying to tease you with suspense. I wrote to Mr Twycross last week – did you see his advert in the Prophet? He's getting on a bit the poor thing, and he's looking for people to teach those of age to disapparate. I think you'll remember I was excellent when we had to learn it, so I wrote to him and he remembered me! I met with him just this morning, along with his other new recruits and there are some other familiar faces. Caroline Bingley was there – not a welcome face but still, it is good to know people. So was James Morland! There were a few others who I recognise from being in years ahead but I'm afraid that my last revelation will not be so welcome to you. Fred Wentworth was there. I know you must have forgotten all about him by now but still, I know you liked him a lot back in the day, against your better judgement (and mine). I will do my very best to keep you both separated while we visit throughout the year – run ins with Slytherins are unwelcome, even all these years after we've finished school. I've enclosed our schedule but we'll be coming roughly every second Sunday until February when we stay for three weeks! I can't wait to see you!_

 _Yours,_

 _Lily Russell"_

Anne felt as though she had been punched in the stomach. The elation of having her very own office and classroom had fizzled out after reading the lines written by her oldest friend. Fred was coming here. Every second week for the _whole year._ Not only that but he was obviously going to be around for a few years to come. She had managed to avoid him for the last five years. It was easy after school. He wandered around being an assistant in the Auror's office while she pottered around her house, doing housework and running errands. There had only been one close call two years ago. She had been buying a new copy of one of her father's favourite books when she had heard his voice rumbling from the front counter of Flourish and Blotts. She had looked around the bookshelves tentatively, just as he had turned around to gesture at the price of a book. He had stopped suddenly, looking straight into her eyes, just as shocked as she was. She had slid the book back onto the shelf, mumbled some sort of gibberish and rushed out of the store.

Since that day, she had only seen him in a couple of articles in the Daily Prophet. It seemed so silly. They were both adults, her at 22 and he at 23. They should be able to handle the whole situation like adults, but alas, they melted back to their childish ways as soon as they knew of the presence of the other. Anne put her head in her hands and breathed heavily for a few minutes before she heard a rap on her classroom door. The emerald green robes of Minerva McGonagall blew into the room before the Headmistress herself.

"Professor Elliot! Are you quite alright?" She exclaimed after catching a glimpse of Anne recovering from her moment of panic.

"Absolutely Headmistress!" Anne said, hurriedly. "I was just having one of those moments! It's been a busy week. Thank you again, for letting me teach here."

"Indeed, indeed – I was always fond of you and your work with Muggles in the past is admirable – no one better for the job!" Anne blushed as the Headmistress went on. "Now, the first years will be arriving in about half an hour, so if you are feeling up to it, I'd love if you would go down to help Professor Flitwick – he's just putting the finishing touches on the Great Hall but Peeves has thrown him a bit of mischief, he may need a hand or two."

"Of course, of course, I'll make my way down there in just a moment," Anne assured McGonagall.

"Excellent! A new year Professor, I do hope you have a good time here!"

Anne smiled as she watched the Headmistress leave the room, her mind already on other things. She grabbed the parchment off the desk and shoved it in the lowest draw. It felt wrong to get rid of a letter from her close friend but she did not want to be reminded of the face that she would have to see, only two weeks from now.


	2. Continually Giving Offence

The Great Hall fell silent as the first years filed in behind McGonagall. All eyes were on the new little witches and wizards. There was a faint snigger from the Slytherin table as someone spotted a young girl with blonde curls shaking.

The Sorting Hat sung its song and each of the first years took their turn placing the tattered hat on their heads. The long tables erupted in cheers every time they gained a new house member and you could see the first years' faces relaxing as they made their way over to their homes for the next seven years.

"Morland, Catherine" was called and a dark haired girl looked nervously over at her red-haired friend who gave her a small push and a smile. The hat hardly scraped her head before pronouncing her in "RAVENCLAW!" She slid from the stool and practically skipped to the table drenched in blue and bronze. Catherine's sorting was followed by two girls who looked as though they were twins – Louisa and Henrietta.

Not long afterwards, "Smith, Harriet" echoed in the hall and the trembling blonde girl tripped over herself as she made her way up to the wobbly stool. The hat spent quite a while resting on her head before it yelled "HUFFLEPUFF!" The guffaws of the Slytherins were hardly heard over the cheers and stamping from the Hufflepuff table. One of the older Hufflepuff girls, Emma, quickly grabbed Harriet out of the embrace and sat her down next to her, smiling at her kindly.

Finally the red-haired girl was the only one of the first years standing. Isabella Thorpe was sorted into Ravenclaw and Catherine cheered the loudest. Isabella slid onto the seat beside Catherine and they chatted away, giggling and pointing around the hall in wonder. All their nervousness of just a few minutes ago had dissolved immediately after being sorted.

Professor McGonagall stood up after everyone had calmed down a little and began to speak. It was lucky she had a commanding presence, she would never use a silencing charm within the walls of this school, so she needed the students to want to listen.

"Welcome to another year! We will save the announcements until after the feast – you've come a long way today! I would just like to remind you that whilst you are allowed – and indeed encouraged – to mix houses for the duration of the feast, I would prefer if you made you way back to your own house table by the end of dessert to receive instructions from your prefects! Otherwise, please enjoy the feast!"

The Great Hall exploded in conversation as the food materialised in front of them and a slim sixth year girl from Gryffindor skipped over to the Ravenclaw table to pull her friend over to eat with her. They sat down next in the only available space next to a brooding dark-haired boy with thick eyebrows and a blonde Hufflepuff boy who looked permanently happy.

"I will never understand how the two of them are friends," whispered Charlotte to her best friend, Lizzy.

"To be honest, Charlotte, I don't waste my time thinking about them. Charlie is nice enough but Will is ridiculous. I popped up to the common-room earlier, I know we're not supposed to but I just had to put up some flyers in there and I'd forgotten to ask Cian to do it before so I had to sneak in. Anyway, as I was sticking them up on the noticeboard, Will comes up behind me and says 'Hi Lizzy, did you have good summer holidays?'" She laughed. "Seriously? He's been nothing but rude to me from the moment we both got sorted into Gryffindor, why start being nice now?" She said all this in one breath.

"But of course, you don't like to spend too much time thinking about it," Charlotte laughed.

Lizzy shot her friend a scathing look and reached for some boiled potatoes.

"We should go get Jane," she said, changing the subject. "She never comes over on her own accord!"

The two girls headed over to the Hufflepuff table balancing their overladen plates, leaving the two boys sitting together.

"I wonder if they thought they were being quiet?" The blonde boy asked, with a grin.

His friend scowled.

"No doubt they did, Charlie. Although, the Bennet girls always think they're being quiet when they're really just shouting all the gossip from the rooftops."

"You were being nice to her though? Even though you're clearly not too fond of the rest of her family?" Charlie asked, raising his eyebrows.

"Sure, but just because I feel like we're above petty arguments now that we're sixth years? I think we can rise above."

"Uh huh. I think you liiiike her," teased Charlie.

"She's definitely not as bad as I once thought mate, but that doesn't cancel out the fact that she doesn't think before she speaks and she's really not that pretty – I like to think that I am strong enough not to lower my standards that much."

"Brutal! Ah well. How many sisters does she have anyway? Every time I think I've seen them all, there's another one that I've never even met."

"There's five of them, Jane's the oldest, then Lizzy, Mary, Kitty and Lydia."

"Bloody hell! I don't think I've ever heard of the Jane girl!"

"She's in your house! She's the one they just left to go and get," Will gestured over his shoulder to the Hufflepuff table where Charlotte and Lizzy were tugging at Jane's arms trying to get her to follow them back to the Gryffindor table as she threw her head back laughing at them.

"Well, you know me, I'm not always that observant," Charlie said, staring at the eldest, blonde Bennet girl. "You would think I would have noticed her though, she's definitely the best one out of the bunch."

"Yes, she's the most normal that's for sure," Will agreed.

The two boys continued eating their dinners in silence – Charlie continually looking over at the Hufflepuff girl he'd never thought twice of before. All the while, the boys didn't even notice that the third Bennet sister was sitting right next to them – left behind after Lizzy and Charlotte went to go and get Jane. Mary's resentment at being left behind dissolved after hearing the Darcy boy's criticism of her sisters, especially of Lizzy.

She waited until after the feast to tell Charlotte. They walked alongside each other on the way to the Ravenclaw tower and she filled her in on everything that Will Darcy and Charlie Bingley had said.

"He said he wasn't going to _lower his standards_?" Lizzy hissed when Charlotte relayed the story to her in Charms the next day.

"That's what Mary said," said Charlotte gravely.

"Oh he needs to get over himself. He thinks he's so good because he's from a pure-blood pure GRYFFINDOR family. He wouldn't dare stoop to the level of a girl with two Slytherin parents and a Squib sister. Ugh. He makes me sick. If he thinks I'm going to respond to his niceties now, he's got another think coming."

Charlotte nodded her agreement but the girls stopped talking as Professor Flitwick walked in-between the desks, inspecting their work.

Lizzy sat fuming, hardly concentrating as she thought about the things that had been said about her. Even through her anger, she couldn't help dwelling on the part of the story when Charlie Bingley had been staring at her sister. She would have been mad if it were anyone else, but the only con that Charlie had was that he was friends with stupid Darcy. Jane Bennet had no shortage of admirers but Charlie Bingley might just be a good match – they were both as nice as each other.


	3. Much More to Heart

"Of course, without floo powder, broomsticks or apparition – Muggles have invented their own means of transportation. Cars, trains, buses – you all know enough about these. Today we will be learning about aeroplanes – this is particularly important for several reasons. Whilst, for the most part, you will be travelling at a lower altitude, if you are travelling over the areas of Heathrow, Stansted, Edinburgh, Glasgow, Cardiff or really, any main city, you may run into a little trouble with descending or indeed, ascending plane. An invisibility charm doesn't protect you from a great hunk of metal," Anne flicked her wand and the words, thrust, lift, drag and weight appeared on the board at the front of the room.

"As you can see, you each have a Frisbee – no, not the fanged kind – in front of you. We will be using these to learn how aeroplanes work."

She continued talking but the two girls up the back were barely listening.

"The boys have absolutely shot up this year haven't they!" said Marianne as she played with her spiral curls, winding them around her wand and then letting them bounce down in her face.

"Absolutely, I noticed the Bertram boy the other day! What an absolute joy to look at! That hair!" Replied her friend Lydia, practically drooling.

"Yes but you _know_ Fanny has had her eye on him for years, even before he got hot," said Marianne resignedly.

"She who makes the first move wins," Lydia grinned with a glint in her eye which Marianne knew meant trouble.

"Oh don't! She'll hate you forever – I know Fanny's a bore but she means well and we really don't need any other girls hating us this year."

"Ugh, fine, but they're just jealous," replied Lydia. "I'm glad I tried some of the boys out for size last year. Some of them are lookers but they're not that great kissers – like that Teddy Lupin? He thinks he's all that but honestly, his looks are ALL he's got going for him."

"And the fact that he's Harry Potter's Godson, of course."

"Well, yeah, a bit of fame doesn't hurt but I need something more than that."

"Dashwood! Bennet! Please stop chattering away over there!" Called Professor Elliot.

"Yes Professor!" The girls sung simultaneously.

They picked up their Frisbees and moved to opposite ends of the room to throw it to each other. A weedy boy from Ravenclaw leant over and whispered to Lydia.

"Bennet – you better not be going and breaking more hearts this year. You're like a human wrecking ball."

"Shut it Palmer, I'll do whatever I want – or, whoever," she replied with a smirk.

As usual, the fourth years had left their Frisbees strewn all over the class room. It didn't matter which prop she used to illustrate her point they would always through it at each other and they would always leave it on the ground afterwards.

Anne sat at her desk and flicked her wand lazily, getting the Frisbees to zoom into the box in front of her. She loved teaching the kids, but she did wish they would be a little tidier. She didn't have a commanding presence or the heart to yell at them though, so she couldn't expect that they would respect her entirely. Also, it was a Friday afternoon, she could barely expect them to concentrate with the weekend looming, let alone to tidy up.

A curt tap on the door came, thankfully before she could let her thoughts carry her away.

"Miss Elliot?"

"Professor Sprout!" Anne exclaimed. "How good to see you!"

"And you too my dear, you too," the old professor smiled. "I've come to ask you a favour."

"Of course! Sit down, sit down," Anne pulled a chair out and sat opposite.

"You must have heard that I was getting an apprentice in to help me?" Professor Sprout asked. "I am not as spritely as I used to be and, with all due respect, my job is far from that of a muggle gardener."

"Indeed, indeed," Anne laughed, thinking back to days of wrangling Venomous Tentaculae or raising Mandrakes. "Has the apprentice begun yet?"

"Not yet, he will be coming in this weekend – I'll meet him in Hogsmeade for a pint or two before we get to work. Fortunately, or unfortunately depending on how I feel, Longbottom was always excellent at Herbology and I fear it will take less than a week to show him how to do the job."

"You're lucky to have found someone so adept!"

"Aye, I am blessed to know the boy. Or man, I guess, as I must call him," she clutched her heart. "How they grow Anne!"

Anne smiled kindly at her.

"I think I must leave Hogwarts once he is settled," Sprout confided. "I have been here a good many years now, the war took its toll – not that it hasn't taken its toll on Longbottom, but I am much older and quite frankly, much weaker."  
I do not think I can stay here much longer, as much as I love it. I need to go home, spend time with my nieces and nephews and indeed, my great-nieces and nephews."

"I'm happy for you Professor, although it will be sad to see you go!" Said Anne, smiling sadly. "Hogwarts will not be the same without you."

"Oh thank you my dear, you are very kind," the Professor patted Anne's arm softly. "I've always admired you and I think you have much more potential than merely teaching."

Anne looked up, confused.

"Yes, yes I think you will make a fine Head of House – someone must take over after me and those Hufflepuffs are gushing about you in the common room. They love their lessons with you!"

"Oh but professor! They may like me as a teacher but I don't think I am cut out to be responsible for all their emotional wellbeing!"

"Well, we all must differ in our opinions I guess, but I did overhear Miss Woodhouse telling Mr Ferrars the other day that they were both extremely lucky to have run into you the other day – I believe you sorted out a tiff between the second years that the two prefects had been trying to sort out, to no avail?"

"Well, yes, but I just happened to be in the right place at the right – "

Professor Sprout held up her hand.

"My dear! That's all it is! Being in the right place at the right time, with the right words."

Anne was silent while she mulled over the possibility of heading up the house that she loved so dearly.

"I'm taking your silence as acceptance – there is absolutely no one else that could do the job!"

"Alright then, if you really think I'll be good at it?"

"Absolutely my dear," said the Professor, lifting herself up out of the chair and turning to leave. "You wouldn't mind helping me out on Sunday would you?"

"What with, Professor?"

"I'm supposed to be supervising the Apparation lesson, but of course, if I'm meeting Longbottom, I won't be able to be in two places at once!" She laughed. "You wouldn't mind popping up on Sunday just to lend a helping hand – they do tend to get a bit carried away up there, you never know what's going to happen!"

"A-absolutely," Anne nodded her head, trying to add assurance to make up for stuttering.

"Excellent dear! I appreciate it immensely!" Sprout said as she opened the door. "Well, I will see you tonight at the feast!"

"Indeed," Anne smiled after her. "Thank you for dropping by!"

Professor Sprout waved her hand dismissively and disappeared around a corner.

Once she was out of sight, Anne leant against the doorframe while her mind raced with a thousand possible excuses she could use to get out of going up to the Great Hall on Sunday. Each excuse was more flawed than the last and Anne, who had never sworn in her life, let out a four letter word which caused the portrait on the wall next to her to giggle uncontrollably.

Anne shut the door to block out the sound and slid down on to the floor.

Whether she liked it or not, she would be seeing Fred Wentworth on Sunday.


	4. Gentlemen Were Scarce

"Lydia! Have you taken my travelling cloak?" Lizzy yelled through the rooms, trying to make herself heard over the din in the girls' dormitories. Everyone in third year and above was getting ready to go to Hogsmeade – everyone except those who were getting ready to go up to the Great Hall learn how to apparate.

There was a pause before she heard Lydia respond, "No!"

"You're a terrible liar!"

"Well, it's not like you need it anyway!" Lydia conceded. "I've lost mine and I like yours! It's such a nice colour – mine's gross green!"

"Fine," Lizzy sighed. "If it comes back with so much as a butterbeer stain, you are dead!"

"Thank you!" Lydia sung as she picked up her bag and stuffed some money into a purse.

" _Please_ don't get into trouble!" Lizzy called after her youngest sister as she watched her bounce down the stairs, not a care in the world.

Lizzy rolled her eyes and took the stairs back to her room two at a time. She laid down on her bed and tried to clear her mind of the past week's stresses. Homework was piling up already but she didn't want to think about it too much, she just wanted to be calm for the lesson ahead.

She'd heard horrible things about Apparating classes and didn't want to go down in the Hogwarts word-of-mouth history as someone who splinched themselves. She gave a shudder and closed her eyes.

"Emma, I'm not _saying_ you're a bad role model," Alex Knightley was assuring his blonde friend perched on top of a bar stool sipping her drink. "I'm just saying I think you should _maybe_ just hold back on the advice for Harriet. She's a first year, she's still working it all out – you have to let her make her own mistakes."

"I hear you, I hear you," Emma replied with an air that indicated she wasn't really listening. "But those mistakes are not going to include getting stuck in that stupid trick step, or letting Peeves stick gum in her hair and they are most certainly NOT going to include that boy."

"If, by that boy, you mean Lionel Martin –"

"Of course I do, what other boy could I possibly be talking about?

"Well, if that's who you mean then I regret that decision."

"What would you do if you were able to influence her?"

"I'd let her make the mistake!" Alex cried. "Not that I think Martin is a mistake at all. I think he actually shows great potential but of course, this is beside the point. I would let her make the choice for herself! If it turns out badly then that's on her but neither of us have any right butting in."

"What I don't understand," Emma said thoughtfully. "Is why, if she's interested in older boys, she doesn't focus her attentions on Elton?"

"Who, that prat in third year?"

"I don't think he's a prat – he's a bit stuffy, but a nice girl like Harriet ought to bring him out of his shell!"

"She's 11 years old, Em, if you _must_ push men at her, at least wait a few years."

"Hmm… you have to lay the foundations though," Emma informed him. "All relationships need solid ground to stand on, history. Like you and I! We have loads of history. If we were at all interested in each other I think we'd make a great couple."

Alex snorted and sipped his butterbeer, "Yes because we get on so well, not a single argument in sight."

"I really think if you took the time to understand, you would agree with me that Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes is much better than Zonko's – with the added bonus of being in London!"

They were still bickering about joke wands and Extendable Ears when the youngest Bennet sister flounced up to the bar.

"Three butterbeers, please, Madam Rosmerta!"

"Coming up, love!"

Lydia tapped her fingers on the bar as she waited, looking around, scanning the room slowly to see who else was taking shelter from the rain outside.

The rain was not the only reason The Three Broomsticks was full to the brim today – The Wimbourne Wasps had quite literally flown in earlier in the week and had been loitering around, shoving their obnoxious yellow robes in everyone's faces and causing general mayhem. They were waiting for the Chudley Cannons to arrive tomorrow for the match that would decide who went through to the next stage. Considering the Cannons were yet to win a game this season (or this century), nobody was all that worried about the result and the Wasps were taking the lack of interest as an opportunity to live it up in Hogsmeade.

Grabbing the three butterbeers off the counter, Lydia headed back to the table, skilfully dodging a rather jovial man with a knee-length beard.

"Oh thank _goodness_ ," Marianne gushed as Lydia set down the drinks. "I'm so thirsty!"

"Here, Garrett," Lydia slid a mug of the golden drink over to the boy sitting next to Marianne, who nodded his thanks. They sipped their drinks in silence as they let the din of the pub fill their ears.

"It's a shame about the rain outside isn't it?" Lydia heard someone say in her ear. She whipped around to see one of the Wasps in front of her. He pushed his blonde hair out of his eyes and a few droplets of rainwater flicked Lydia in the face. He looked fairly young to be playing professionally and Lydia wasted no time telling him so.

"I'm just a reserve – chaser," he responded. "No one really notices me but I get all the perks – like getting to sit with lovely ladies like yourselves."

Garrett Benwick let out a low whistle.

"Smooth, mate," he said, getting up to leave. "I'll take that as my cue to leave?"

Both girls farewelled him with an absent-minded wave of their hands, neither of them looking at him.

"Huh, shame he left! Two ladies and only one gentlemen? Doesn't seem fair to have to choose."

"Well," Lydia began. "Maybe whoever's name you guess first can be your choice?"

"Deal," said the boy turning to face Lydia. "Now let me see….you look like you could be a Viola?"

Lydia shook her head.

"Damn," he slapped his knee dramatically and turned to Marianne. "Well okay… you look like you might be a Mary?"

"Close!" Marianne giggled, blushing profusely.

"Intriguing!" He said, turning back to Lydia. "I've got it! You're an Anabelle!"

"Ick, no!" Lydia shook her head again.

"No luck, no luck," He said, winking at Lydia with his piercing green eyes before swivelling to look at Marianne again. "I know, you're Marianne."

"Yes!" Marianne looked as though she might turn into a beetroot at any moment.

"Well, a deal is a deal girls, I guess I'll just have to take Marianne for a bit of a dance," he said as he offered her his arm.

"Dance?" Marianne asked, looking up at him. "But there's no music!"

The boy raised his eyebrows. The words had hardly left her mouth when the latest hit from the Weird Sisters starting playing out of the radio and the pub began to rattle as everyone started dancing.

"What was your name?" Lydia heard Marianne asking George as they headed into the heaving crowd.

"Wickham," he replied. "George Wickham."


	5. Everything But Prudent

"Destination! Determination! Deliberation!"

Those three words were being yelled throughout The Great Hall, muttered under breaths and spat like curses.

Lizzy slid her hoop closer to the wall with her foot– she couldn't concentrate with Darcy breathing down her neck. He'd chosen to put his hoop directly behind her, no doubt to infuriate her. She could hear his success pounding in her ears. Lizzy knew that most people didn't manage to apparate on their first week, but if there was anyone who could do it, it would be Darcy.

She focussed on her hoop, thought about the satisfaction it would give her to beat Darcy at this _one damn thing,_ closed her eyes and saw her self being transported to the hoop. She felt a tingle in her arm and hesitantly opened one eye to see if she'd made it.

Even though she knew it was ridiculous to think she would be able to apparate straight away, Lizzy couldn't help being disappointed.

"It's alright Lizzy," came the voice of Fred Wentworth, putting his hand on her shoulder reassuringly. "You're doing great!"

"Thanks, Fred."

"Mr Wentworth while we're at school, please."

Fred was only six years older than Lizzy and grew up in the house three doors down from the Bennets in Tutshill. He was always popping over to discuss the latest laws with Mr Bennet or, more often than not, distract Mrs Bennet from berating her poor daughters about getting married. _"Oh Tilda, I know, I know! Let them get an education first, that is always the most important thing!"_ Lizzy had heard this a million times. Fred was always on Mrs Bennet's good side. He was good at being on everyone's good side.

He winked at Lizzy as he walked on to look over the King Sisters; their faces going purple as they deliberated determinately on their destination.

An hour later, the sixth years left The Great Hall looking very exhausted for not achieving much at all. Their heads hanging low, they trudged back to their dormitories to get back to the homework that they'd neglected in anticipation of being able to Apparate.

"Well, that was disappointing," said Charlotte as she linked arms with Lizzy on their way through the corridors.

"Jane did say it would take a little while," replied Lizzy, unable to disguise her disappointment.

"She did it on the second week! She was just being nice about it to make sure you didn't feel bad if you couldn't do it," Charlotte replied indignantly. "Did you feel _anything_?"

"Yeah, I had the tiniest tingle in my arm about halfway through. It was nothing though."

The girls walked in silence for a little while until they came to the fork in the corridors that separated their two houses.

"What do you think about this new development with Charlie and Jane?" Charlotte asked, clearly prying.

"I don't mind it," Lizzy shrugged. "He's pretty nice even if he does seem like a bit of an airhead."

"Hmmm. They've been hanging out a lot in the last two weeks haven't they?"

"Well, they are in the same house after all."

"They've been here for seven years and he didn't even know who she was? It seems very sudden."

"He transferred from Beauxbatons remember? He's only been here for two years!"

"Even still," Charlotte persisted. "Does she like him?"

"Oh yes, I think so."

Lizzy cast her mind back over the last two weeks. After Mary had told them what Charlie and Darcy had been talking about, Lizzy had been steering way clear of Darcy and keeping a close eye on Jane.

She'd seen Jane and Charlie talking a few times, just casually at dinner or on the way to class, nothing more than acquaintances might do, but it hadn't stayed that way for more than a few days.

One night, whilst staying up to finish her Potions essay in the library, Lizzy had stretched back in her chair to flex her arms and back. As she leaned back, she caught sight of two Hufflepuffs huddled over a pile of books. Through her tired eyes it took a few seconds to realise the two figures were actually Charlie Bingley and her own sister and best friend, Jane. She had the urge to call out but something told her that she wouldn't be very welcome. Since that night she had rarely seen her sister out of Charlie's company. There was no doubt in Lizzy's mind that Jane liked Charlie very much.

"I think she needs to be a little more obvious," came Charlotte's voice, pulling Lizzy out of her reverie.

"What? She's fine! I can tell she likes him loads! She spends all her time with him and she's really too busy with her NEWT's to be spending extended time with anyone – if she doesn't like him then she's making a really poor decision. And Jane doesn't make poor decisions."

"I know that, you know that, but does Charlie know that?"

"He must! He's a bit floaty but he's not an actual idiot!"

"Lizzy, hardly any of us are so lucky to be in love if we're not getting encouragement from the object of our affections."

"He is getting encouragement from her!"

"But she's so nice to _everyone._ How is he supposed to tell she's being especially nice to _him?"_

Lizzy was silent. As usual, there was an element of truth to what Charlotte was saying.

"All I'm saying is that maybe you should just prod her to make sure she and him are on the same page."

"You prod her," Lizzy retorted. "You're bloody good at it."

Charlotte grinned back.

"Just saying, get on it. They'd be a good couple, and you have some power over her, so make sure they actually _become_ a couple."

Lizzy shot her friend a withering look before the girls parted ways for the night. One feeling satisfied after impressing her concerns on the other who was now feeling annoyed that she had to deal with those concerns.


End file.
